thick skin
by frankielouwho
Summary: When Rey returns home from her first year of college, she's shocked to discover her mother has married a super hot younger man. But there's something off about him that Rey finds frightening as well as exciting. Darkfic.


It's a warm, early summer day when I make my way home from campus. My crappy Cavalier rattles the whole way but makes the two hour drive, in part thanks to the hundred prayers I mutter under my breath. The house is still and quiet from the outside, a plain blue two story with a wide front porch and sloping roof. The maple tree out front is in full bloom and the yard is neatly manicured. I sigh as I pull in the drive, surprised to find I've missed home.

Guilt clenches are my gut for a moment. I haven't visited since leaving for my freshman year at the U of M. Not on any of the breaks, even - I was too busy studying, working shifts at the student bookstore, and partying with my new friends. College has been a dream come true, and I was reluctant to come home for the summer. I would have to find a new job, save up my money…

But at least I would have a roof over my head and food in the fridge. Mom was kind of a space cadet, but she _could _manage to feed herself when I wasn't around to remind her. At least, I was pretty sure.

I grabbed my canvas tote off the passenger seat. It was bursting full of my phone, wallet, keys, other odds and ends. I shouldered the bag and crossed the stone path to the front door. I paused on the stoop, frowning - was I supposed to knock now? I hadn't been a resident here since last August, and it felt _weird. _But before I can embarrass myself by mmmm knocking or just breezing in, the door swings open and a tall, gorgeous guy fills up the doorway.

"Whatever you're selling, we aren't interested." His voice is deep and gravelly, and I have to wedge my foot between the frame and the door as he goes to shut it. Confusion crinkles my brow as I crane my neck back to look up at him. Soft black waves brush his shoulders, and he has a goatee. His lips are full and pink below a long nose, and dark, deep-set brown eyes watch me in surprise as he catches my sneaker in the door.

"Excuse me," I say, anger coloring my cheeks pink. "I live here."

His jaw drops and he steps back, pulling the door further open. His gaze raked over me from head to toe. I felt exposed in my cut offs and the cropped tank top that showed my arms and a sliver of my belly. His dark eyes lingered at my meager chest before he seemed to catch himself ogling me. Shaking his head, he stepped back to let me in. "Rey, right?"

"Right," I confirm with a quick bob of my head. "Who the hell are you?"

"Ben Solo," he says, offering his hand. It's much bigger than my own and swallows mine up. A weird warmth spreads through my hand and up to my elbow as we shake. I glance up into his face to see if he feels it too - but his dark gaze is pinned on me, staring me down. It's intense and makes me shiver.

"What are you doing in my house, Ben Solo?" I ask, sounding much calmer than I feel on the inside. Confusion mingles with attraction, and he still hasn't let go of my hand. I finally pull back, embarrassed as my palm grows clammy from anxiety.

"Didn't Kira tell you?" Ben asks.

I shake my head _no. _I've barely spoken to my mother all school year. She's a writer and constantly working. I hate to interrupt her - years of my life spent leaving her along while she banged away at first a second-hand typewriter and finally a crappy used PC once I was in high school. She had been working si much, slaving away on her latest project, she hardly answered my calls the first few weeks of school. I adjusted my expectations - something I was quite accustomed to - and started calling less and less. I didn't want to bug her and possibly interrupt whatever creative roll she was on. She would never forgive me.

"Rey! Darling!" Mom breezes in from the kitchen in her Stevie Nicks wannabe gypsy clothes. We look a lot alike, and she's young - only in her mid-thirties. She had me as a teenager, back in her wilder days. Her brown hair is the same color as mine, long and wavy falling over her slender but toned shoulders. Silver bangles clank on her wrist as she pulls me into one of her too-right hugs. I try not to outwardly cringe. "I didn't know you were coming home today!" she exclaims.

"I texted you, emailed, and left a voicemail," I reply. She pulls me back, arm's length away, and studies me. The biggest difference between us, other than age, is her bright blue eyes. Mine are a hazel-brown, dull and not nearly as luminous as hers.

"You look well, honey. No freshman fifteen on you," she adds, pinching my waist. I blush and swat her hand away, glancing awkwardly at Ben Solo. He looks as uncomfortable as I feel. "Oh! Right. Rey, honey. This is Ben, he's your new stepfather," she says, sliding her arm to wrap around his waist. He's a full head taller than her, and I watch as a blush creeps up his neck as he hugs her back.

If this were a movie, _now _would be when the record scratched and everything froze. But it wasn't a movie, it was my life. I blink in shock at the pair of them as Mom extends her hand to show off the big glittery rock on her finger. For some reason, I feel dizzy. My pulse thunders in my ears.

"Step dad?" I echo in disbelief. "When - what?"

"It happened so quickly," Mom says in a breathless voice. "He's doing the cover art for my novel, the one that I'm publishing."

"You're getting _published?_" My voice gets higher in pitch as she piles on the surprises. This was big news! I would have expected a phone call or text, but she hadn't even told me she was _married. _Betrayal - jealousy - swirl in my gut, filing it with bile. I stare at her, dumbfounded on my shock, as she beams.

"So many wonderful things have been happening, Rey. I'm so glad you're finally here to celebrate with us!" Mom motions for me to step into her embrace. Reluctantly, I let her hug me, and feel Ben's warm hand on my back through my tank top. I feel anything but at _home _in the house where I grew up, more a stranger now than ever before.

Dinner is awkward for Ben and I, but Mom seems as oblivious as ever. She rambles on about their whirlwind courtship, how quickly they fell in love. I push stir-dry around my plate and eye Ben suspiciously. He smiles in all the right places, comments during the right pauses. I know the act well - fitting into Mom's conversation, the straight man to her comic relief, playing a supporting role. But Ben is doing that now, not me. I feel lost and my appetite disappears by the minute.

"I really am so glad you're home and we can be a family, all three of us," Mom says as we wash dishes together at the sink. I nod along and agree despite the suspicions that rise inside of me.

How well does she even know this guy? Was he a good person or a secret serial killer? Would we get murdered in our sleep tonight? A billion questions race through my mind. I doubt I'll be able to sleep with some random guy my mom decided to marry under the same roof. My stomach is queasy just at the thought.

I excuse myself after we finish our dishes and head up to my bedroom. I still need to unpack my car, but I'm too emotionally exhausted after this hellish day. I just want to peel my clothes off and jump into bed and wake up tomorrow to find this all was a crazy dream.

But once I'm in bed, I can't sleep. I toss and turn for a long time as my bedroom grows darker and darker. Finally, I begin to drift off.

And then I hear them.

Mom moans out wantonly. I wince into my pillow as the sounds of their sex penetrate my room. The wet slapping of their bodies coming together, Mom moaning his name. I should be grossed out - and I am, a bit. But hearing Ben's soft grunts of pleasure twists something inside of me. Arousal pools between my thighs as I listen to them together.

"You like that, don't you? My little slut," Ben says, and I close my eyes and pretend like he's saying it to me. I squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my thighs together. My clit throbs with need as I clench down on nothing, greedy to be filled. It sounds like Ben is doing a mighty fine job of that, judging by Mom's enthusiastic sounds.

"You're taking my cock so good," he says, and my hand snakes down to rub at my soaking cunt through my wet panties. This is wrong - I must be sick in the head to be turned on by this. But I can't help it. I grind against the heels of my hand, hips rocking only a little, until we all seem to cum together - me biting my pillow to stifle any sounds.

_What is wrong with me? _I roll over so that I'm face down to hide my burning cheeks. The house goes quiet and despite my shame, I fall asleep.


End file.
